The Sacrifice Read online

  And then he disappeared.

  I never saw his face. I never knew his name or even where he came from. But he saved me from running back into the fire and from the danger in the woods…Danger? What danger? Something about a man with horns…

  I try, but the dream is slipping away. The more I try to grasp at the details, the more they disintegrate to ashes, like paper in a fire.

  And then the pain starts, driving away every other thought in my head.

  Chapter Eighteen

  My period isn’t a regular, monthly occurrence, like it is for most women my age. It only comes on me three of four times a year—always presaged by The Dream.

  And it always makes me feel like I’m dying.

  The stabbing, grinding ache in my lower abdomen feels like someone is simultaneously poking me with a bayonet and driving over me with a tractor. Usually it comes on slowly, giving me time to get up and brew a cup of tea from the special herb mixture I’ve concocted, which makes it a bit more bearable. The herbs don’t take all the pain away—nothing short of death could do that. They do, however, make me feel a little less like I’m about to meet my maker.

  But this time the pain hits hard and fast, like a freight train of agony smashing straight into my body. It hurts so much I can barely breathe and even if I get up, it won’t do any good. My herb mixture is at home and I have no way to get it.

  I think of calling Lexy—it’s the middle of the night but she would understand. She was with me when I had my first few cycles—the ones where my aunt rushed me to the emergency room, certain I had been stricken with appendicitis or something equally deadly. It was only after having two or three periods that we realized the grinding agony was normal for me.

  So yes, I’ll call Lexy and ask her to get up, go to my apartment again, and bring me my herbs. But my phone is all the way across the room on the dresser. I’ll have to get up to get to it and right now, I’m not even sure if I can turn over, let alone get out of bed and walk across the room.

  Still, if I don’t get my special tea, the torture is only going to get worse. I know from painful experience that it can go on for up to twenty-four hours before my period finally runs its course. That, of course, is the only good thing about my cycle—it’s very short. It’s like my body saves up all the pain a normal woman has during her entire week long cycle, multiplies it by a factor of twenty, and dumps it on me all at once. All in all, I think I’d rather have a week of dull, achy cramps than one twenty-four hour time slot filled with unremitting agony. But it’s not up to me.

  Grimly, I force myself to roll over in bed and sit up. The effort leaves me shaking, my forehead damp with sweat. I can feel the wet, sticky warmth between my thighs and I’m afraid I’m ruining the crisp cotton sheets. I never have a very heavy flow but it’s enough that I need a tampon—which is something else I left at home. I’ll ask Lexy to bring them along with the herbal tea mixture.

  Now comes the hard part—standing up. I know that getting to my feet is going to feel like someone stabbing me with a thousand knives but I have to do it. I have to reach my phone. Why the hell didn’t I leave it on the nightstand instead of all the way across the room on the dresser? Ugh…this is going to really hurt…

  Pushing against the mattress with all my strength, I lever myself up into a shaky standing position. Okay, that wasn’t so bad. Then I take the first step and the knives hit me. The bright flare of agony in my lower belly brings me to my knees. I hit the carpeted floor with a thump and a low moan is drawn from my lips. For a minute, all I can think about is how much it hurts. The pain…the pain…Oh Goddess, please make it stop…

  And then someone is bending over me. In the darkness, I see a pale face, almost too perfect to be real. Luminous silver-gray eyes are staring anxiously into mine. Aiden…Master…

  “I’m here, darling.” He sounds worried—maybe on the edge of panic but somehow he’s holding it together. “What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?”

  “Not…hurt,” I manage to gasp.

  He frowns. “The hell you’re not—I can smell the blood. What have you done to yourself?” He lifts one of my arms and examines my wrist, maybe looking for slash marks.

  “I…I didn’t cut myself,” I say, trying to pull my wrist away.

  “Then what’s going on?” he demands.

  Absurdly, I’m embarrassed. Despite the raw pain still tearing through me, I don’t want to explain. This is a female matter—private. And I’ve yet to meet a man, human or supernatural, who didn’t shy away from discussing it. But Aiden is bending over me, his eyes filled with concern, clearly waiting for an answer.

  “It’s…” I gasp as another bolt of pain shoots through me.

  Aiden grips my shoulder tighter. “What? What is it?” he urges.

  “Just…just my period,” I whisper through gritted teeth.

  Aiden’s face fills with understanding. “Your monthly cycle. Is it always this bad?”

  “Always,” I whisper, grateful that he understands. “I need my herbal tea—it’s at home but I’ll get Lexy to bring it. That helps a little.”

  Aiden frowns. “It will take too much time for her to get here.” Gently, he scoops me into his arms and carries me back to the bed.

  “No, don’t.” I struggle weakly as he tries to slide me back under the covers. “The sheets—I’ll ruin them.”

  “Damn the sheets,” he says angrily. He puts me in bed and then crawls in beside me. He’s no longer wearing his expensive business suit, I realize hazily. He’s back to faded blue jeans and a t-shirt.

  The pain gets worse and I start to shiver. Aiden sits up a moment, rips his shirt off and holds me close, obviously trying to warm me with his body heat. I close my eyes and try not to think about the pain but it fills me, consumes me. It feels like someone is digging out my insides with a dull shovel.

  “Emma,” he whispers harshly in my ear. “This is too much for you to bear. I’m going to give you something to dull the pain.”

  “Drugs…don’t help,” I whisper, fighting to get the words out. “Nothing but the herbs. Call…Lexy.”

  “This will help,” he says with such certainty that I open my eyes to see what he’s talking about.

  I focus on him just in time to see him bring his wrist to his teeth and bite down hard, his white fangs sinking into his pale flesh. He pulls his mouth away and deep crimson blood, like liquid rubies, begins to flow down his wrist. The set of his eyes betrays the agony he’s feeling—if everything I’ve heard is true, Aiden has just inflicted pain equal to what I’m going through on himself. Losing blood is a traumatic and excruciating experience for vampires. As I explained before, their bodies don’t want to give it up.

  “No,” I whisper, my eyes going wide with horror. “You can’t…”

  “The hell I can’t,” he says fiercely. “Didn’t I tell you I’d give my blood if you needed it? Well, you need it now, Emma.” He presses his bleeding wrist to my lips. “Drink. It will make the pain less.”

  I open my mouth to protest but then his blood is filling my mouth. It’s hot and sweet like melted honey with a sharp, metallic tang at the end. Too weak to push him away, I let it fill my mouth and run down my throat like liquid sunshine. I know this must be hurting my master but he doesn’t make a sound or a sign, only watches anxiously as my throat moves, swallowing the sacrifice of blood he gives me.

  It only takes a minute or two before I feel a change. Something miraculous is happening—the stabbing, grinding pain in my lower abdomen is fading. Slowly, but surely it slides away, like a chain pulled crushingly tight around my belly is being loosened. At last, all that’s left is a dull ache, which, while not pleasant, is a hell of a lot better than what I felt before.

  Feeling stronger, I push Aiden’s wrist away. There’s no need for him to endure any more pain for me and anyway, the self-inflicted wounds on his pale flesh are already healing. His face is still anxious as he looks down at me. “Feeling better?”

  “Much,�€